


A Royal Dance

by MelodyoftheVoid



Series: Fading Reflections [1]
Category: Invader Zim
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Ballroom Dancing, Gen, Good Sibling Gaz (Invader Zim), M/M, Older Dib (Invader Zim), idiots falling in love, she owns the braincell in this family, with feelings™
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-05
Updated: 2020-07-05
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:15:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25092205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MelodyoftheVoid/pseuds/MelodyoftheVoid
Summary: It didn't matter what Dib did, Zim always managed to ruin this party. This year was no different.
Relationships: Dib & Gaz (Invader Zim), Dib & Zim (Invader Zim), Dib/Zim (Invader Zim)
Series: Fading Reflections [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1817320
Comments: 40
Kudos: 282





	A Royal Dance

Dib stifled a yawn as the string quartet started up for the dancing portion of the gala. He loathed the parties his father threw for their birthdays. Overly glitzy and ostentatious or as he put it, “Fit for a future king”. In his opinion it meant the attendees got to flaunt their newest clothing and accomplishments while he had to put up with their vapid nonsense.

He watched as Zib charmed the older nobility, at ease in his natural environment. At least his twin was having a good time. Zib thrived in the spotlight, easily gliding through conversations while Dib did his best to not put his foot in his mouth. Zib loved to dance the traditional waltzes just as much, cracking some of the few genuine smiles Dib would see during the year when his favorite songs came on. Dib preferred to watch from the sidelines until King Membrane all but forced him out onto the floor.

But tonight, that he wouldn’t get that small mercy. Before the gala even began, the eldest prince found himself on the receiving end of one of the king’s patented “You will be a king one day” lectures. Usually those came _after_ the party.

“Son, this is your sixteenth birthday celebration. You are coming closer to becoming a man and as such, you need to be a part of this celebration! No lurking! You must interact with our guests tonight.”

At least Zim hadn’t showed up yet. Whenever the Irken arrived it set off some chain reaction of wild events that he’d end up taking the fall for. Like the time GIR ate the entire cake and made himself sick all over the nobility, or the time that Zim let loose a swarm of bees even though the little pest was allergic to them. Ancestors forgive him if he forgot the time when Zim managed to convince him that there had been fairies in the well, leading to a soaked him and a furious King Membrane.

Somehow, he almost missed the chaos of Zim showing up on time, at least something would happen then. But given the storm that rolled through just two days prior, the Irkens probably wouldn’t make it. Dib made his way onto the dancefloor, smoothing his hair and fidgeting with his cufflinks in an attempt to not look like a total mess.

“May I have the first dance?”

Ah there she was, Dib turned his attention away from the cuff links to a familiar face. Gretchen. He smiled politely, bowing the appropriate amount and taking her hand. Usually it was his ‘place’ to ask for a dance, but the King accepted anyone asking him if it meant Dib’s active participation in his own celebration.

The pair made awkward small talk, Dib giving small apologies when he stepped on the poor girl’s feet. Not that she seemed to mind given the look on her face. The young noblewoman from what he remembered always buried herself in fairytales and romance novels. She’d called him her prince charming a handful of times much to her embarrassment. Despite that, when Gretchen could hold herself together, she made a good conversationalist.

“So, where’s Zim? He’s usually caused a massive scene by now.”

Dib snapped back to reality, giving a small chuckle.

“The ship got delayed by the storm. So, your guess is as good as mine for when or if he’ll show up.”

Gretchen lit up at that before subduing her expression.

“You might get through a gala without a major disaster for once then! Imagine that your highness. No barfing dogs.”

“No bees.”

“No screaming matches.”

“That would be ideal,” Dib spun her away with the swell of the violin following close behind to catch her, “but knowing Zim he’ll manage to do something.”

“That’s true,” she looked down, brow furrowing. “That’s true.”

“Is something wrong Gretchen?”

Her face flushed, a few stammered attempts of sentences left her mouth as she lost focus on her footing, tripping and stumbling before she caught herself.

“It’s nothing, just I couldn’t help but think… Why do you have to marry Zim?”

“What?!”

It was Dib’s turn to completely lose footing, doing his best to recompose himself before his father noticed the slip up. He spotted Gaz raise a questioning brow from her corner. He gave a slight headshake. It was too early to bail out.

“What I mean, uh your highness, is that, well. You don’t have to marry him; couldn’t the treaty work just as well with one of your siblings? He just seems like a lot to handle.”

A wave of nausea hit Dib at the thought of Zim with his brother. He didn’t understand why just picturing it left him hollow, almost numb. Would the two of them get along better? Zib found himself at the receiving end of Zim’s pranks less often that was for certain. Would Dib be happier without the weight of the betrothal? Without Zim? He wanted to say yes.

He couldn’t.

“I guess, but he’s not all that bad. He’s a good swordfighter, he can be funny at times. And we can get along sometimes. Besides, Empress Miyuki wanted Zim to marry the next in line for the throne. I don’t think we can renegotiate the terms to be entirely honest. I fear her.”

The both shivered at the thought of the woman angered.

“Besides, the good of the kingdom comes first. If that means I have to learn to deal with Zim, then it’s what I must do. I’m not sure how I feel about transferring the engagement to someone else like Zim’s a piece of land I don’t want anyway. That just, feels wrong.”

“Should that really matter?”

Ancestors help him, she was not going to drop the subject. Dib turned and nodded to Gaz. Soon, the music wound down, allowing Dib to bid Gretchen a hasty farewell before making a beeline for his sister.

Dib could feel his sister look him over for weaknesses. She always, _always_ , knew when Dib’s emotions got out of hand. Gaz handed him a glass of water, amusement spreading across her face as he fumbled with the cup.

“What’s got you so ruffled? Did Gretchen call you her prince charming again? Or suggest that you marry her instead again?”

Dib let out a weak laugh, “No, not this time. She kept asking about the engagement, just the weirdest questions.”

“No shit.”

“Language Gaz,” Dib puffed up his chest in an all too familiar manner, “you know that’s no way for a young lady to speak.”

“Father would never. He gave up on making me a lady years ago after I kicked the collective ass of the royal guard. Now, what did Gretchen say about the engagement? I haven’t seen you trip up that bad since Torque asked you to dance last year.”

Dib felt his face heat up at the mention of that fiasco. At least Torque was pretty chill about the whole ordeal.

“She just suggested that I give Zim to Zib basically. That just seems, so…slimy.”

Gaz fixed him with a look like she knew something that he didn’t. Dib couldn’t meet her gaze, too focused on his glass to acknowledge her. Much to his own relief, she granted him the small mercy of letting the topic go for now. But given Gaz, she’d bring it up again at the worst possible time to embarrass him.

Sighing, Dib took a sip from the glass, as an all too familiar voice rang out in the relatively quiet ballroom.

“Zim has arrived!”

The water left his mouth just as fast as he’d drank it, his eyes widened with shock. How on Earth?

The small prince made his way across the floor to the musicians, staring with equal confusion at the Irken. The whole room stared at Zim, the teen stage whispering and gesticulating wildly. The players started a jaunty tune, setting a sense of dread in Dib’s stomach once more. A singular look from the still seated king was enough to tell him that he _still_ had obligations to attend to. Well. One obligation. Dib walked over, trying to stall the inevitable.

“Zim.”

“Dib.”

“You managed to get here on time. Somehow.”

“The mighty Irken fleet can handle a puny storm, it was a minor delay really.” Zim shook some stray water out of his hair. The small prince still smelled of salt. “Now! Zi- I wish to ask you to dance. And not one of your boring waltzes,” he gagged, “no. We will be dancing a traditional style from Irk.”

“What? I don’t know how to do that!”

Dib’s eyes darted around at the staring crowd, anxiety creeping through him as murmurs and whispers amplified. He didn’t want this, he never wanted these parties, this attention. Flashes of previous years went by, the jokes that he pretended he didn’t hear, the giggles that he ignored.

“Ignore them Dib-idiot. They aren’t who you need to impress anyway. Zim barely pays attention to those fools. Zi- _I_ will show you how it’s done. Unless of course… you’re scared?”

Dib met Zim’s gaze with a determined smile. Like he’d let Zim off the hook that easily. And if Zim’s slips into the third person were any indication, he felt just as much pressure.

“You wish you roach.”

Zim grabbed his hand, yanking Dib out onto the ballroom floor. Onlookers parting before the pair.

“It’s just like sparring, just follow my lead. I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”

Zim small steps back, almost skipping to the beat, Dib mirrored in kind, both their movements speeding up as Dib gained more confidence. Before the duo knew it, they were pulling each other across the floor, spinning with reckless abandon. They didn’t even notice the nobles they bumped into, nor the furrowed stare of the king.

Zim swung Dib out, Dib pulled him back in, one took a step forward, the other stepped back, an ebb and flow to their movements as natural as their arguments. Dib allowing Zim to take charge of the pace, occasionally pulling just to keep him on his toes.

The music shifted once again, the familiar violin playing a faster version of the earlier waltz. Now this Dib knew. Without a second thought, he took the lead, following both the lessons of his tutors, and his rival/betrothed. Waltz steps at a quickened pace, the pair moving in time to the movement of the bow. Dib twirled Zim, letting him fall into a dip before letting out a laugh at Zim’s shocked expression. The prince’s amethyst eyes went wide, almost affronted by the action.

“Hey!”

“It’s just like sparring, right? Or are you just tired?”

“You wish!”

Dib barely noticed the heat rising to his face, nor the mirrored blush on Zim’s face, too caught up in the adrenaline of the moment. Only when the music faded out did Dib’s mind register their position. He almost dropped Zim in shock, only managing to compose himself enough to bow politely and make a hasty retreat for the door. Mind racing with too many images of what could’ve happened next.

Dib let out a muffled scream, why did he do that? Was he really about to- To… Why would that even cross his mind? He and Zim were barely friends let alone that close! But… He’d had fun dancing with Zim, and he’d be lying if he said that the prince wasn’t attractive. The more Dib thought about it, the more it dawned on him. He, Dib Membrane, genuinely _liked_ Zim. The urge to scream only grew stronger. At least that explained Gaz’s look earlier.

Gods, he just had to go and make a scene though, didn’t he? He couldn’t just handle the situation like an adult, no. He’d run off like a scared child.

Dib turned out to the gardens, letting the cool night air settle his nerves. The constellations sparkled and shone in the clear summer sky, a waxing moon lighting up the hedges with a soft silver glow. He let out a soft breath, wandering until he finally came across a bench. He sat down, just trying to let the scenery wash away all of the fear over what came next. If he closed his eyes, he could pretend for a moment he was on the deck of his ship, free from the prying eyes of court, the judgmental stares of his father, out exploring new lands.

The crunching of gravel alerted Dib to someone approaching, breaking him out of his brief fantasy. His heart jumping back into his throat. Of course it was the last person he wanted to see. Zim panted as he rounded the corner, straightening up when he made eye contact. A false nonchalance painted over a flushed face.

“Dib-sti-, Dib.”

“Zim.”

Silence crept between them like ivy, choking the questions Dib had long before he could ask them. Zim’s face scrunched up, reminding him of the Irken prince’s prized puppy. Like dog like owner he supposed.

“Zim is sorry.”

Dib turned, looking over Zim for a sign of a prank or insincerity, he found only tension and a sheepish smile. Dib tried to channel Gaz as he raised a skeptical brow.

“For… what exactly?”

“Zim did not mean to ruin your party, your frightening sister and father were… Arguing quite loudly about… Us. And my behavior.”

Dib pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to parse out what Zim was getting at.

“You didn’t do anything wrong here. I made a scene. This isn’t like your previous stunts.”

“That’s, “Zim hesitated, gloved hands wringing. “what I meant to apologize for. You always spoke about how miserable those events made you and only Zim makes the Dib miserable! So Zim fixed it! At least I thought I did.”

Dib let out a small whisper, “It was funny watching Gaz use her sword to fight those bees.”

Zim perked up, “And the face the king made when we pulled you out of the well?”

“I was soaked! Still better than talking to those old nobles.”

“At least they talk to you willingly.”

“Ehh, debatable. They just whine about their land and their kids. Riveting stuff.”

Zim let out a laugh, loud and genuine. Dib felt his stomach turn, heart fluttering at the sight of his rival. He couldn’t help but laugh too, at himself, at the situation, at the both of them. Zim had to join Dib on the bench, doubled over and clutching his abdomen. Their laughter faded slowly, the sounds of crickets and distant chatter replacing it.

The two sat side by side, neither exchanging a word. Not even when Zim’s hand intertwined with Dib’s. Not when Dib inched ever closer. It was unfamiliar, frightening, and any minute Dib expected the rug to be pulled out from underneath him. For the other shoe to drop. But it didn’t.

For once, Zim had given him a real gift. And he was grateful.

**Author's Note:**

> AAAAA HERE IT IS!!! The first in what will be many fics in the Royalty AU. Thanks go out to the Discord for helping me put this together! I can't wait to share what I have with y'all! Trust me, it's going to be a trip. We'll be hearing from Zib next :)
> 
> Edit: AAAAAAAA SHANZII MADE ART!!!!!!!! LOOK AT IT!!!!!!! God my boys are so cute... *sobs* I just love them so much... It's a shame lmao. I love them dearly, and yet... _the story demands sacrifice_


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